by Karen Kirst
* * *
Relief combined with exhaustion kept Deborah off balance. Ascending the rarely used staircase on the rear west corner of the house, she marveled at the sudden twist of events. Adam knew about the Quinn orphans. She wasn’t alone. Their well-being didn’t fall squarely on her shoulders anymore.
Liam and Lily were safe. She was willing and eager to fill the role of nurturer. First, she had to convince Adam that keeping their presence a secret was vital for the time being.
Easing open the door to her room, her arms laden with a tray of food, she discovered a sight that made her heart melt. Liam was perched on the lone cushioned chair, the high back and wide arms emphasizing his frail, small body. Adam knelt before him, one knee balanced on the floor as he examined the boy’s bruised knee.
Lily stood off to the side. Dust smudged her nose and forehead, her brown hair was a nest of tangles and her already ratty clothes had sustained a tear. When the aroma of the meat and its juices reached her, she raced over, her blue gaze fastened onto the plates piled with leftovers.
Deborah led her over to the desk. Lily dug in without waiting for permission or pausing to say a blessing.
Tears stung her eyes. What hardships they must’ve endured these past months.
“Go ahead and eat your fill. Now that you’re with me, you won’t have to worry about going hungry.”
“I’ve never had meat like this,” the girl enthused between bites. “Aunt Laura usually gave us pinto beans and stale corn bread.”
Across the room, Adam lifted his head and observed them both. It was impossible to guess his thoughts. He looked as if he’d survived a barroom brawl. His hair was mussed. Dirt coated his boots and pants. There was a rip in the side seam of his shirt. The gash across his cheekbone had ceased bleeding, but already the skin around it was turning an awful purple shade.
She wouldn’t soon forget his actions. He’d set his own safety aside for a pair of kids he’d never met. The cattleman possessed a heroic heart.
Deborah brought Liam’s food over to him. Adam took up position beside the window and folded his arms across his chest as he surveyed the trio.
“Who wants to tell me what the three of you have been up to?”
Since neither of the kids dared look at Adam, Deborah sucked in a deep breath. “Liam and Lily fled an untenable situation and wound up here.”
Liam found his voice. “If you try to send us back, we’ll run away again.”
“I can’t help if I don’t know details.”
Deborah crouched beside the chair. Liam’s blue eyes latched on to hers. She could see the battle waging inside him, the wariness forged by mistreatment, the drive to protect his younger sister, the unspoken cry of a boy who simply wanted to be a kid again.
“You can’t run forever, Liam.” The hypocrisy of her own words made her throat seize.
His gaze roamed her face for long moments. Frowning, he put down his fork.
“Our parents died on the same night, about an hour apart.”
Sympathy flickered in Adam’s steady gaze. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
The story poured out in fits and starts. The weeks of being cared for by the elderly pastor and his wife, their future uncertain as they awaited word from relatives. The move to their great-aunt and -uncle’s home and unjust treatment. The news they were being sold off like prized bulls.
Deborah found herself wanting to confront these strangers who weren’t acquainted with compassion.
Adam’s growing frown indicated he felt the same. He checked his pocket watch and nodded at Liam’s uneaten food.
“You finish up while Deborah and I go to the kitchen and fetch some cloths and soap to clean your hands and faces. Since everyone else is in bed, baths will have to wait until morning.”
Lily watched their short walk to the door with trepidation. “Will we have to return to the tent?”
Adam shook his head. “I was thinking you could stay here. What’s your opinion, Deborah?”
“Lily can sleep in the bed with me, and I can fix a soft pallet on the floor for Liam.”
Lily eyed the bed with longing. “Say we can, Liam. I can’t remember what sleeping on soft ticking feels like.”
When Liam agreed to the plan, Adam accompanied Deborah downstairs. In the darkened dining room, she clasped his hand, preventing him from entering the kitchen and possibly waking Aunt Mae.
Placing the kerosene lamp on the mantel, he turned to regard her with solemn eyes. “How did you get involved with a pair of runaways?”
“Remember the bride train?” At his nod, she said, “There have been rumors of stowaways since our arrival. Seth Halloway’s boys claimed to have seen them on the train. Gus and Old Horace insist they’ve seen them around town. Then there were the stolen items that didn’t fit the typical pattern. Food, mostly, but also toys. I found a porcelain doll outside the Gardners’ home the night of the benefit.”
“That’s why you’ve been sneaking out at night.”
“I couldn’t help wondering if the rumors were true. What if there were children in our midst who were fending for themselves?”
He rubbed his hands down his face, wincing when his fingers came in contact with the gash. “Why didn’t you tell someone when you found them?”
“You’ve seen how they react to strangers. The only reason they talked to me is because I appealed to Lucy’s stomach.”
His mouth twisted into a half smile. “Smart approach.”
Deborah crossed her arms. “My turn to ask questions. Why were you following me? And why did you point a gun at us?”
His gaze skittered away, and he shifted on his feet. “I was walking home tonight when I saw you. I was afraid for your safety.”
“So you took it upon yourself to nose your way into my affairs?”
“Cowboys are unpredictable.” He shrugged. “You know that. More than half of the crimes committed here can be attributed to them. Those gunshots you heard tonight? Those were cowboys who’d likely had too much to drink. I don’t want to think about what could happen to a beautiful woman alone in a deserted part of town late at night.”
He thought she was beautiful?
“While I appreciate your concern, I wish you hadn’t burst in there with abandon. It will be difficult for you to earn their trust.” She glanced out at the quiet street. “One good thing can be said about your involvement. They’re finally here, where I can keep them safe.”
“We don’t know whether or not their story is true,” he said. “And if they’ve stolen from local stores, some of the owners might call for some sort of punishment.”
“They’re children,” she retorted. “What do you suggest we do? Turn them over to the sheriff and let him lock them up?”
“Nothing so extreme. But they might have to do odd jobs to pay for the things they stole.”
“When the time comes, I’ll cover the costs.”
His brows shot up. “You’re awfully invested in these kids. They could’ve been taught to swindle unwitting adults.”
Dismay shivered through her. “How did you get to be so cynical?”
“I’m being practical.”
“I’m not as naive as you think.”
“You’ve got a huge heart. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You haven’t spent time with them.” She’d looked into their eyes and seen their need. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Not until they’ve had a chance to recover from their ordeal.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Deborah—”
She laid her open palm against his chest. “They’ve been on their own for at least two months, living in fear of the elements, wild animals and adults who’d do them harm. They need food and clothing, but above all, they need a friend. I aim to be that, with or without your blessing.”
His chest was
sleek and hard beneath her hand, his heartbeat slow and steady.
“I won’t say anything,” he finally said.
“Thank you.”
“It won’t be easy keeping their presence here a secret,” he warned.
“We’ll manage it somehow.”
The kids were counting on her. She wouldn’t let them down.
* * *
“I thought you preferred to fill your grooming needs over at the bathhouse.”
The note of suspicion in Aunt Mae’s voice was unmistakable. Adam replaced the hot kettle on the stove and set the empty basin on the floor by his feet.
Plastering on a smile, he turned toward the woman. “I volunteered to carry this up to Deborah’s room. Her ankle isn’t fully healed.”
Hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes. “You should know that nothing gets past me, Mr. Draper. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
Shock chased the smile from his face.
With a knowing smirk, she wagged her finger. “Deborah has many fine qualities, but she’s not wise to the ways of the world. See that you don’t break her heart.”
What exactly had this woman seen to warn him off Deborah?
“I’m not looking for a wife.”
“Does she know that?”
“Absolutely.” He thought back to that moment in church when he’d made the mistake of caressing her hand. “I’ve spoken to her about it.”
“See that your actions match your words.” With that parting warning, she removed a handwoven basket from its peg and headed to the garden.
Her chastisement wormed into his conscience, unsettling him. Last night, as he’d pursued Deborah through town, he’d been 100 percent convinced she was leading him to his long-hunted quarry. So convinced that he’d drawn his weapon and waved it in innocents’ faces.
He’d spent a restless night, replaying the horrible scene and thanking God no one had gotten seriously hurt. He’d acted like an inexperienced agent. Rash judgment could get someone killed.
His mood grim, he ascended the stairs to her room. She opened the door with a smile that wrought a reaction that made a liar of him. His interest in Deborah had started out professional. The more time he spent with her, the more he was drawn to her. The discovery that she’d been helping needy children—not a criminal—made it more difficult to restrain his attraction.
“Good morning, Liam. Lily.”
They were scarfing down the breakfast Deborah had snuck up soon after the boarders had finished theirs and dispersed from the dining room. They watched as he placed the basin in the corner and poured in steaming water.
“How did you sleep?”
“The bed was like a dream,” Lily piped up.
Liam shrugged, his wariness a barrier between him and the world. Despite Adam’s inclination to question everything first, verify later, he was inclined to believe the children’s account of events. Their eyes bore evidence of haunted memories and grief he could identify with. The impact of losing a parent wasn’t easy to fake.
Deborah’s bell-shaped skirt swished against him as she scraped soap shavings into the bath. She looked fetching, as always, this time in a tasteful dress the hue of a blue jay’s wing. Her rich brown hair was arranged into an understated twist. Tendrils had escaped to caress the line of her jaw.
“And how did you sleep?” he asked her.
Her big topaz eyes locked on to his. “I have no complaints.” She gestured behind her. “They’re safe now.”
Decreasing the distance between them, he pitched his voice low. “I’d like to discuss their case with Russell Halloway.”
Her eyebrows puckered. “They’re orphans, Adam. Not a court case.”
“Information is vital. I can ask him to dig into their relatives’ past. We can’t help them if we can’t prove their claims of neglect and mistreatment.”
Her fingernails made crescents in the scented soap. “I don’t know.”
“You have to think about their future, Deborah. You can’t hide them in this room forever.”
Looking pained, she nodded. “You’re right. Russell is a compassionate man. I believe he’ll do his best to help them.”
“I want to see their situation change, too.”
“You aren’t even sure you believe them.”
Adam looked over and caught Lily licking the gravy from the plate. Her arms were frail, her shoulders a sharp line beneath the thin material. Liam’s face was gaunt.
In his line of work, he’d seen the worst of humanity. He’d also witnessed the best. People who forgave those who’d wronged them. People who helped others without expecting anything in return.
“I believe they’re in a bad spot and that you’re the best person for this task.”
She pressed her lips together, uncertainty surging. “I hope you’re right.”
“In this instance, I am.” He withdrew his money clip and offered it to her.
“What’s this?”
“After their baths, I’ll stay with them while you procure suitable clothing.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. I have enough to cover it.”
“You’re planning to pay the boarding expenses they incur. And you didn’t ask. I offered.”
When she didn’t reach for the clip, he gently unfurled her fingers and pressed it into her hold. “You’ll have to be circumspect about your purchases.” He thought of Seth and Marigold’s little girl, Violet. “In fact, why don’t you worry about Liam. I have an idea where I can get something for Lily.”
His family would be curious, but they were used to his reticence on certain subjects.
“I’ll take care of my errand first to give them time to clean up. Will an hour suffice?” Adam asked her.
She cast a dubious glance at the kids. “Give me an hour and a half.”
Chuckling, he let himself out. And almost smacked into Hildie.
“Hildie,” he said in an overly loud voice, hoping the sound carried through the door as a warning. “I apologize. I didn’t see you there.”
Casting a glance at the closed door, she sneered at him. “I misjudged you, Adam.”
“Excuse me?”
“I thought you were too astute to fall for her innocent act. You deserve whatever she dishes out.” With a disdainful sniff, her head high, she marched for the stairs.
Alarmed, Adam caught up to her. “Hildie, I’d like to know to what you’re referring. What is the nature of pretense you’re accusing Deborah of?”
“Ponder the fact that she has ignored every interested male overture until you came along.”
The sudden vise squeezing his chest loosened. “We’re not courting.”
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
Her words were an almost exact repetition of Aunt Mae’s. “You’re mistaken.”
“I don’t think so.” Leaning close, she tapped Adam’s shoulder. “You should know that those other suitors didn’t have padded pockets like you.”
Adam watched her descend the main staircase. He’d deliberately given the impression that his assumed persona, Adam Draper, was a wealthy cattleman. Hildie had decided that Deborah had befriended him in hopes of landing a rich husband. He was sure jealousy played a role in her behavior. Hildie wanted a husband, and it appeared any willing gentleman would do.
While he didn’t share her convictions, he was forced to acknowledge that he’d failed to gather intelligence on his prime suspect. His lips pursed in a frown. That label may have worked in the beginning, but now... He found it impossible to view the warm, generous woman he’d gotten to know as a potential criminal. The orphans’ presence alone challenged his previous theories.
He’d been wrong about her clandestine outings. What else was he missing?
He had to dig deeper. He’d gleaned scant details about her past
, and that needed to change starting today.
Chapter Twelve
As a child, Deborah had been scolded for eavesdropping. Turning away from the door, she wished she hadn’t overheard Hildie. Granted, she hadn’t heard the entire conversation, but it had been enough to confirm she was repeating her hateful opinion. Would Adam believe her?
“He’s a nice man, isn’t he?”
At the hope tinged with doubt in Lily’s big blue eyes, Deborah set her own worries aside.
She smiled. “Yes, Lily. He’s been a wonderful friend to me. You can trust him.”
His arms crossed over his chest, Liam turned from the window overlooking Eden Street and faced her. “We thought we could trust Aunt Laura and Uncle Jeremiah. Turned out their nice act was for the pastor’s benefit. As soon as we left town, they told us how things were going to be.”
Lily bowed her head. Going to her, Deborah put her arm around her and hugged her close to her side. “Adam isn’t pretending. And neither am I. Together, we’ll make sure you never have to worry again.”
It was a vow she fully intended to keep, but to these kids, they were empty words. They’d have to see proof of her devotion, and that would take time.
Praying for discernment, she situated Liam at the desk with paper and pen. Moving the privacy screen into place, she ushered Lily into the bath and tackled her hair. Then it was Liam’s turn. He was old enough to see to his own grooming, so the girls left him to it. Deborah lent Lily a plain white blouse that, on her slight frame, looked more like an oversize dress. Humming to herself, she combed the last of the knots from her waist-length hair. Lily seemed engrossed in their reflection.
Deborah caught her gaze in the mirror and ceased humming. “Feel better?”
Lily nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“When it’s dry, I’ll braid it for you. Would you like that?”
Her smile was tinged with sadness. “My ma used to hum a lot, too. Pa teased her about it.”
“I know you miss them.” Setting aside the comb, she gently squeezed her shoulder. “You won’t ever lose the precious memories you have of them.”
Adam returned not long after Liam finished his bath. One look at the siblings’ clean countenances and tidy hair evoked a whistle of appreciation. His grin transformed his features and lent a sparkle to his brown eyes.